If Only You Knew...
by Ace of Hearts
Summary: A certain someone has her eye on the Brotherhood's resident bad boy...and her name isn't Kitty Pryde.
1. Crush

**~ If Only You Knew... ~**

She had never intended to fall for him. After all, this was Avalanche she was talking about. He was crass, he was snide, he was rude, he was a Brotherhood boy for God's sake...but most importantly of all, he was already taken. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he had a soft spot in his heart for a certain chestnut-haired, blue-eyed freshman, hell, it was so damn obvious that even someone as dense about romance as Evan Daniels or Scott Summers could figure it out. And although Kitty had shied away from him in the beginning, it was equally obvious that she was warming up to Avalanche, going as far as kissing him--albeit on the cheek. 

So Avalanche was already taken, but the fact that he and Kitty were two steps away from becoming an official couple had never been an issue with her until she herself had fallen for the darkly handsome senior. She had never intended to, romance itself seemed to be getting more complicated by the minute these days, and she'd figured that one crossover relationship with the Brotherhood was more than enough--the X-Men really didn't need two of their team members head over heels with a Brotherhood boy. And they most certainly did not need two of the X-Men falling for the same member of the Brotherhood; all the in-fighting, tension, and screamed accusations of betrayal would tear the team--no, not just team, family--apart from the inside. But she couldn't control her growing affections for Avalanche--or Lance, as she had secretly started referring to him in her mind and in her heart--and so she dealt with her feelings the only way she knew how: she hid them from the rest of her teammates and from Professor Xavier. 

She had often wondered to herself how this mess had started in the first place. In the beginning, she doubted she could survive being alone with Lance without launching into a verbal exchange with him that would subsequently lead to physical combat. Lance himself harbored ill feelings for her as well; he seemed to take it upon himself to put her down every single day, going as far as accusing her of dyeing her hair, making snide remarks about how she must have gotten breast implants...anything to make her want to turn right around and choke the daylights out of him. She didn't know whether Lance resented her because he felt she'd somehow done him some wrong, because she was everything he wasn't--surrounded by people who loved her and who cared for her, never having to worry about where her next meal was coming from--or simply because she was an X-Men. And once those insults started flying, she didn't care why he despised her so, either. It took every ounce of willpower to hold her head high and keep on going, to ignore his ruthless insults and not get into an argument with him. However, the insults and snide remarks seemed to stop one day, when she sent an anger management book to his locker. She'd written on the cover, in her neat, careful handwriting, that maybe if he spent half as much time strategizing with his teammates rather than thinking up insults about how her hair looked fake, then he might actually start winning battles against them every so often. Naturally, Lance had been waiting for her after school. Rather than the verbal assault that she'd been expecting, however, all he did was hand over the anger management book.   
"You misplaced this," he'd grunted curtly. However, she managed to catch a brief flicker of admiration in his eyes, perhaps from the way she'd handled his constant belittling of her, and that one look had filled her with a giddy triumph that she'd neither expected nor welcomed. 

She had hoped that that would be the end of Lance. Unfortunately, it was not to be. The next time she'd encountered him was under darker circumstances. While during a field trip, her partner had fallen into a deep hole, and had pulled her down with him in an effort to save himself. While the two lied down there, crumpled up in a heap of tangled limbs, she'd fretted over what to do and whether she could somehow contact the Institute without revealing herself and the other X-Men to her non-mutant companion. She didn't have to ponder over her dilemma for long though, as a familiar--though not necessarily welcome--face appeared from the edge. She had easily recognized Lance Alvers, and noted with growing despair the amused smirk on his lips. However, after a few seconds of silence, he'd finally grunted, "I'll get a rope," and disappeared from view only to emerge with the promised item. She'd been suspicious and wary at first, but Lance showed no signs of threatening to let go of the rope at anytime, and both herself and her companion had climbed to safety. As she sat there, dumbstruck, she wondered why Lance--a member of the Brotherhood--had rescued her, a member of the X-Men. At the time she'd convinced herself that he had only done it to get on Kitty's good side, nothing more. Certainly he couldn't still hold that grudging admiration from the anger management book incident. Or, she thought to herself, maybe he still did, as he reached out with a hand and offered to help her up. After a few moments of hesitation, during which she'd timidly avoided making direct eye contact with him, she'd accepted his offer. 

She certainly hadn't expected to develop any feelings for him after that incident. After a few minutes, Scott and Kitty had arrived at the scene and had rushed to help her up. Lance had quickly dropped her hand, as Scott gave him the evil eye. Lance had simply stood there, not the least bit fazed by the expression of hostility on his rival's face, and smirked smugly, a smirk that quickly melted into a genuine smile when Kitty shot him a grateful look. That had been the end of the whole ordeal...until the car ride home, during which she'd realized, to her immense horror, that she'd developed affections for Lance Alvers. 

Not even now did she know when those feelings had emerged--be it that brief moment when he'd returned the anger management book and had allowed the grudging admiration to emerge, or that day when he'd rescued her from the hole and had reached out to help her up. All she knew was that she hated herself for falling for him. Hated herself for not choosing someone else to like--why not Scott, every girl in the Institute seemed to have a thing for him, anyway. But most of all, she hated herself because in order to pursue a relationship with Lance, she'd have to betray Kitty. And that was a sacrifice she was not willing to make, no matter who the boy was. Kitty was like a sister to her. And no boy was going to come between them. She'd promised that to herself. And when she made a promise, she intended by all means to keep it. Or at least, she told herself, as she gazed off into the sunset, do her best to keep that promise. 

* * *

So, how'd ya like it? Should I continue? Burn it to the ground? This is my first Evo fic (I've written a number of Gundam Wing fics before), and as if that ain't bad enough, it's my first serious attempt at romance (all my other stories are humor), but if you're gonna flame, then feel free to fire away. Constructive criticism would be better appreciated, though -_-. Oh, and by the way, I purposely kept the girl's identity a secret. All the hints you're getting is that she's not Kitty (duh) and she ain't Tabitha, either (she's one of the X-Men, which leaves Jean, Rogue, Rahne, Jubilation, and Amara). 


	2. Stand Here With Me

"I....I can't believe you would cheat on me, Matt! And with that bleach-blonde tramp, Trish, of all people!" the redhead onscreen yelled dramatically, as she violently flung a rolled-up magazine at the unfortunate man in the room. "What about me?! What about our baby?!"   
She shuffled on light feet toward the living room, and noted with amusement the bored, listless boy slouched on the sofa, watching the verbal exchange on TV with about as much interest as if he were viewing a documentary on the history of golf.   
"I can't believe you watch that kind of stuff," she spoke up, hiding the smirk from her face but not from her voice. Kurt Wagner barely batted an eye in her direction.   
"Yeah, well the only thing that's on TV in the morning is soap operas, and it came down to either this or Sesame Street," the German mutant muttered defensively, and she had to wonder whether he might be blushing underneath that thin, silky coat of blue fur.   
"It sucks that my hologram inducer frizzed out on me again," Kurt grumbled, while on the TV screen the redhead slapped her soon-to-be-ex-husband hard enough to leave a two-week red mark on the poor man's face.   
"It's better than being forced to stay home because you've got a cold," the girl offscreen spoke up, thankfully finding it unnecessary to slap her male companion for any reason. She plopped down on the couch next to Kurt, and asked lightly, "So, do you get any of these storylines?"   
"Not at all," came the prompt response. Smiling slightly, she began to explain the intricate plot of the soap opera.   
"Well, you see, Matt and Lila are married and have a baby coming up, but Matt's brother Chris is secretly in love with Lila, so he's plotting to tear them apart. And to do that, he spreads a nasty little rumor that Matt's been cheating on Lila with a fitness model named Trish, and the scene you're witnessing here is the big argument between Lila and Matt," she began.   
"Uh huh," Kurt nodded absently. Just then, a pretty brunette appeared on the TV screen. "Who's that?"   
"That's Stephanie, the richest woman in town. She hates Chris because she secretly loves him, but he only cares about Lila, and Stephanie can't date Chris anyway because she's already married to a Frenchman named Jean-Claude," she explained.   
"Uh huh, who's that?" Kurt asked, sitting up straighter as a tanned, California beach girl-type blonde made her dramatic entrance.   
"That's Torrie, Lila's sister and best friend," she said. Swallowing hard, she added, "She's secretly in love with Matt, but she can't admit it because she doesn't want to tear a perfect relationship apart."   
Her voice cracked on the last part of her sentence, before Kurt remarked, "Heh, you sure know a lot about these soaps. Since when did you start watching, anyway?"   
"Since three weeks ago," she admitted, while inwardly she added, _Around the same time I realized I had feelings for Lance. _Her face was flaming red by then, and she was glad that Kurt couldn't read minds, as she stumbled up and stammered lamely, "I just remembered something I have to do. Got to go!"   
Kurt gave her a weird look as she half-tottered, half-scrambled out of the room.   
"Women," he sighed. 

* * *

She fumbled with her locker, wondering how she could have forgotten her combination number after a mere three-day absence.   
"Ugh! Open up!" she mumbled, and in a rare display of temper, slammed a fist against the locker.   
"Having trouble with your locker, Princess?" an all too familiar voice spoke up, surprisingly close behind her, as in the back of her mind she realized that Lance had been a lot friendlier to all the X-Men ever since the disastrous attempt to recruit him a while back. Perhaps his relationship with Kitty was closer than they'd all thought, she realized with growing despair, before silently chastising herself for behaving like this and focusing her mind on the present. Whirling around, she found herself face-to-face with none other than Lance Alvers. As she had expected. What she hadn't been prepared for was being this close to him, and she stumbled back a few steps after having locked eyes with him for a few seconds.   
"Um...I can handle it," she mumbled, as she desperately searched her mind for something to think of other than how beautiful his eyes were. _Gee, I wonder why he has to call me Princess, _she wondered absently in the back of her mind, while carefully avoiding eye contact with him. Shrugging to herself, she muttered under her breath, "Guess it's better than Britney-clone."   
He raised an eyebrow.   
"You say something?" The tone of his voice was casually curious, and she quickly mumbled that she hadn't said a word.   
"You can go, now, I--I'll be all right." She cleared her throat, and concentrated on her locker combination.   
"Whatever you say, Princess," Lance replied lazily. "But before I go, let me at least help you with that. Kitty would appreciate it."   
And before she could say anything, he'd reached over, gently motioning for her to get out of the way.   
"Here Princess, hold these, won't ya?" Lance muttered absently, plopping his notebook and history textbook into her arms, before beginning to twist the dial, a light frown of concentration darkening his features. She quickly stumbled out of the way, watching him work, and her mouth dropped open in amazement as, after a few seconds, there was a metallic clicking sound and her locker door popped open.   
"Ta da." Lance took an exaggerated bow, and she nearly succeeded in holding back a giggle at his showboating.   
"Amazing," she murmured, as she inched closer, his books still in her hands. "How'd you learn my locker combination, though?"   
A guilty smile crossed his features, as he coughed and mumbled something incomprehensible.   
"What?"   
"Erm...it's a nifty little trick I learned from Pietro while he was raiding Evans's locker, 'kay?" Lance finally admitted. "Now give me back my stuff, I've done my good deed for the day."   
"Okay, okay, fine," she muttered, but as she reached to hand over his books, the motorcycle magazine piled on top fell to the ground, and as she bent down to pick it up she noticed two stubs sticking out of the top. 

"Hey, what's that?" She reached over and plucked them out of the magazine, as a panicked expression suddenly surfaced on Lance's usually smug features.   
"Don't look at that!" he ordered, as he tried to pull them back. She swiftly stepped out of his way, and held the pieces of paper closer to examine them.   
"Hmm...concert tickets," she murmured thoughtfully, while using one arm to block Lance's desperate attempts to snatch them back.   
"I'm doomed," Lance mumbled, as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed.   
"Concert tickets..." her voice trailed off as she examined the tickets closer. "...for Backstreet Boys?!"   
Her voice rose several octaves on the last part of her sentence, as she turned to fix almost accusing eyes on Lance.   
"Um, well, you see, these are for my little sister, and it's none of your business anyway, you're a lousy X-Geek pal of Kitty's, now _give them back to me!"_ Lance made one last desperate attempt to grab the tickets back, but his 'Princess' succeeded in keeping them out of reach.   
"Lance, you don't even have a sister," she reminded him. He continued to struggle playfully with her for the tickets, before finally giving up, throwing his hands in the air in defeat.   
"All right, all right, I'll come clean," Lance grumbled, to the point of nearly pouting. "I was hoping to surprise Kitty with these as a late New Year's present."   
"Oh." An unexpected flash of jealousy shot through her, breaking through the cloud of giddy happiness that she'd experienced from this playful flirtation with Lance.   
"Oh." Her voice had quieted considerably, and an awkward silence passed between them. Lance cleared his throat, as if somehow sensing that something had gone wrong. And then...   
"Now give them back!" he yelled, as he attempted a surprise ambush. He'd nearly succeeded in wrestling them away from her before she regained her senses and quickly darted out of the way.   
"No!" she giggled, as he chased her for his tickets.   
"This is getting silly, Princess!" Lance huffed. "If one of the guys sees me fooling around like this with an X-Geek, I'll never hear the end of it!"   
"Which reminds me, how much do you think they'll pay for proof of your romantic BSB concert night with Kitty?" she teased, as an expression of horror crossed Lance's face.   
"You wouldn't!" he gasped, and the very threat of such a thing happening seemed to renew his enthusiasm for regaining the tickets. 

He'd backed her, giggling, into a corner, and was playing tug of war for his tickets, when a distinctive feminine voice spoke up jokingly.   
"My, isn't this friendly."   
Both of them turned around, to see Kitty Pryde standing in the nearly deserted hallway. Lance quickly backed away from the corner, and both seemed to notice that Kitty's smile was a bit too bright, her voice a bit too cheerful. Lance cleared his throat awkwardly, running a hand through his dark hair, before mumbling, "Um, Kitty. Hi. Didn't see you there."   
Kitty simply stood there, her overly cheerful smile plastered on her face, as Lance struggled to come up with an excuse.   
"I was just, um, I was just..." he stammered nervously.   
"He was just going to get back these tickets for a Backstreet Boys concert," the firm, surprisingly neutrally-spoken sentence startled both Kitty and Lance, and the two turned to stare at the third party, who broke into a strained smile.   
"Here." She handed the items over to the only male in the group. "Why don't you tell Kitty about how these were supposed to be a late New Year's present?"   
"Um, yeah," Lance mumbled. "I nearly caught hypothermia from camping out overnight for these suckers, but I got 'em."   
Kitty broke into a genuine smile.   
"You mean you did this for me?" she squealed happily. "Aw, that's so sweet of you. I heard the concert sold out in, like, half an hour!"   
"Well, they're not the best of tickets, I mean, you have to understand, we're kind of broke in the Brotherhood house," Lance stammered.   
Kitty smiled sweetly.   
"That doesn't matter," she said. "I mean, wow, I'm finally going to see the Backstreet Boys in concert! You're the best!"   
And she reached up and impulsively hugged him. The two walked off for their chemistry class, Kitty chattering happily, Lance grinning from ear to ear. She could only gaze enviously at the happy couple, before sighing and reaching into her locker, pulling out her math book and slamming the door shut with a little more force than needed.   
"Remember," she murmured to herself as she headed off to class. "No emotion is worth sacrificing a friend over, no crush is worth destroying a perfect relationship."   
The exact same words that Torrie had recited, on the soap opera that she'd begun watching approximately three weeks earlier. 

* * *

Heh, well, there ya go, Chapter Two of my pitiful attempt at a romance fic. And I know the mystery girl's identity is still a secret, 'cause as of right now, even I have no clue as to who I want her to be. So, every girl's still in the running, and I'm beginning to realize that there's really not a lot of choices. Hmm, maybe I should retract that hint about it not being Tabitha since she's a Brotherhood gal. I can always work out a storyline where she ditches them for the X-Men (c'mon, we all know she's gonna return one of these days)...*runs off thinking over possible candidate for mystery girl* 


	3. Break Up

She walked into Kitty's room, wanting to borrow the other girl's geography textbook as she had left hers at school, and heard voices emanating from behind the door.   
"...Does this look okay? Or what about this one? Or...no, wait, I think the pink one looks better don't you?" Kitty was squealing excitedly.   
"Ugh, yeah, if you want to look like a puff of cotton candy," Scott's voice spoke up, the thinly masked distaste so obvious that she had to flinch. _Jeez, that boy should learn the meaning of subtle one of these days,_ she thought to herself. Frowning, she pushed open the door and hesitantly poked her head inside.   
"Can I come in?" A teasing smile suddenly lit her face. "Or am I interrupting anything?"   
"Like, ew!" Kitty made a face, while Scott simply glared at her, despite the difficulty of doing so behind a pair of ruby-quartz shades.   
"I'm trying to decide which dress to wear to the Backstreet Boys concert with Lance, and since Scott here was the only one in the mansion..." Kitty's voice trailed off, as she gave Scott a mock evil eye, before her face lit up again. "But now that a girl's finally arrived, help me choose: Which dress do you think is better, the red one or the blue one?"   
She attempted to examine both items closely as Kitty held first one, then the other dress to her.   
"I...I can't really tell," she finally stammered, when her eyes fell on an overly girlish, Barbie-type pink dress, and she said lamely, "Um...why don't you go with the pink?" Inwardly, she was cringing, as she realized that she'd just suggested the tackiest dress on display. Even Scott eyed her as though he believed her fashion sense had just gone down the drain.   
"Sure, she can go with the pink...if she wants to look like Princess Bubblegum!" Scott remarked sarcastically. The name 'Princess' reminded her of Lance, and she inwardly cringed--she did not want to think about him right now, especially with Kitty in the room, especially when she knew he was taking Kitty out on a date--be it official or unofficial.   
"You, Mister, have more than worn out your welcome," she growled, as she playfully propelled a startled Scott out the door. Slamming it shut behind her, she turned around and plastered a big smile on her face. 

"Now, you were saying...?" she asked the other girl. Kitty gave her a wary look.   
"Um, I don't know why I even pulled out that pink powder puff in the first place, it was a birthday dress I wore last year that my grandmother bought for me and insisted I wear it," she mumbled. "Eh...I think I'll just go with the red dress."   
Which was a bit more sexy than she felt comfortable with, she realized.   
"The red one? I...I don't think you should wear it," she stammered.   
"Why?" Kitty asked questioningly. Why? That was a good one, she thought to herself, as she frantically ran through a list of reasons of why the perfectly fine red dress wouldn't be appropriate.   
"Erm...because it makes you look kind of skinny," she finally mumbled out lamely, having decided that suggesting the dress made Kitty look either fat or slutty was just too plain mean.   
"Oh." Kitty placed the red dress back onto her bed, and picked up the sky-blue one, studying it thoughtfully. "I guess I should go with this one, then."   
"Right," she muttered. The blue one was still too stylish, and when Lance saw Kitty in it, she just knew he would fall head over heels for her--all over again. Under her breath, she muttered grumpily, "I still think you should have gone with the 'pink powder puff'."   
"What? Did you say anything?" Kitty, who'd gone into the bathroom to change, called out curiously. Blushing, she quickly coughed and mumbled, "Erm...nothing at all." 

Just then, Kitty stepped out of the bathroom, looking like an angel in her soft blue dress and pearls. She twirled around for effect, and asked eagerly, "Well? How do I look?"   
Her friend managed a big, fake smile, as she chirped in an overly bright voice, "You look great!" _Too great,_ she silently added, while keeping the cheerful smile plastered on her face. Kitty broke into a grin, and reached over and impulsively hugged her.   
"Thanks," she said sweetly, then looked at her watch and squealed. "Oh, my gosh! Like, I don't know where the time went; the concert starts in a couple of hours and Lance was supposed to pick me up--five minutes ago!"   
At that moment, Scott poked his head into the room.   
"Prince Charming has arrived," he growled, trying unsuccessfully to hide the distaste from his voice. Kitty dashed excitedly toward her door, tottering slightly on her high-heeled sandals.   
"This is, like, so cool!" she squealed. Turning around to the other girl in the room, she smiled and said, "Thank you so much for helping me out here, and not acting all weirded out that it's Lance! I mean, this is gonna be the best night of my life!" 

* * *

"Lance Alvers is the biggest jerk on the planet, and this was the worst night of my life!" Kitty fumed, impatiently wriggling out of her coat and hurling it with a vengeance toward the couch.   
"Ow! My head!" Scott whined, as the silky white object landed with a resounding smack against the back of his head. Kitty ignored him, and instead stomped up to her room, where the distinct sounds of paper ripping could be heard for the next couple of minutes. Scott turned to the young woman seated beside him, who had stood up when Kitty'd stormed in, and was now glancing worriedly in the direction of where the other girl had stomped off to.   
"Eh...maybe you should go talk to her. You know, one of the girl talks that no guy could possibly hope to get," he suggested. She shot him a dirty look for his last comment, but nodded in agreement at his suggestion.   
"You're right," she murmured, and headed off toward Kitty's room, her heart pounding as she wondered what could have possibly turned Kitty against Lance. 

She mounted the steps, coming to a stop in the hallway in front of a certain freshman's room. After a few uncertain moments of hesitant waiting, she finally knocked lightly on the heavy oak door.   
"Kitty? Can I come in?" she called out warily, unsure of whether to just walk in or ask for permission first. There was the sound of something being thrown across the room, and Kitty's muffled voice could be heard snarling, "Lance Alvers is the biggest creep in the world!"   
"Er...I'll take that as a yes."   
She hesitantly pushed the door open...and had to duck wildly to avoid the overstuffed maroon pillow that came hurtling through the air toward her.   
"Wow, Kitty, calm down," she murmured, as her heartbeat returned to normal and she thanked whoever was out there that the object Kitty had thrown in her anger had been a harmless pillow.   
"I hate Lance, and I hate all the Brotherhood boys, and I hate all boys!" Kitty fumed, and she could practically feel the rage oozing off of her. Stepping gingerly through the pile of clothes and stuffed animals strewn all over the carpet, she motioned toward the shreds of paper on the floor that had once been a glossy poster--before someone had come along and viciously torn it apart.   
"Um...what's that poster of?" she asked hesitantly, wondering what could possibly be the answer. Kitty shot it a look of scornful distaste, before spitting out, "Backstreet _Boys!"_   
"Right," the other girl murmured. Arching an eyebrow, she added, "And I guess that those are Jamie's Hardy _Boys_ books burning in the fireplace, right?"   
Kitty said nothing, just plopped facedown on her bed and sulked. Her companion gingerly took a seat at the edge of the bed, and cleared her throat awkwardly, before finally breaking the silence.   
"Kitty, did something happen between Lance and you?" she asked quietly. Silence. She thought she heard a muffled sob coming from Kitty, whose face was buried in her pillows.   
"Kitty, listen, I know I'm not your sister or best friend or anything, but us X-Men have got to stick together, and if there's anything you want to talk about, you can tell me," she spoke up. Her eyes fell on another glossy poster, and she winced. "And you don't have to cross out _Lance_ Bass's face from the 'NSYNC poster first."   
"Hn. I always liked J.C. better, anyway," Kitty muttered grumpily. Her friend cracked a smile. It appeared as if the other girl was going to open up. 

"So...what happened?" she ventured to ask. After a few minutes of silence, her friend finally began to speak.   
"I don't know what happened," Kitty said miserably. "I mean, I thought the evening was off to a wonderful start. It's not as if we had, like, the best seats in the arena or anything, but that wasn't what mattered, and we were just having fun. Or at least, _I_ was having fun."   
"And then what happened?" the other girl asked, her voice ending on an absurd high note as she tried to make it sound as neutral as possible.   
"And I don't know what happened!" Kitty moaned. "I mean, Lance looked kind of embarrassed to be there to begin with, and there were all these thirteen-year-old teenyboppers trying to hit on him, and then for some reason, _he_ got jealous of _me_ because according to him, I was drooling when the Backstreet Boys came onstage! The nerve of him to accuse me of having wandering eyes, when he's the one with all the junior high school girls dangling from his arms!"   
"He was probably just cranky. You know how guys are when it comes to pop music and especially boy bands," her friend spoke up reasonably.   
"Well, he didn't have to be there! It was his idea to begin with, and then he takes out his jealousy and anger on me!" Kitty huffed, insulted. Her eyes darkened, as she added, "And he kept on calling me Princess a couple of times."   
"Oh?" Her friend's voice rose several notches upon hearing that. Kitty nodded.   
"Yeah," she confirmed. "I'm willing to bet he's got another girl wrapped around his finger somewhere, 'cause I know he never calls me Princess, and he'd get these weird looks--like he'd just slipped up and revealed some big secret--whenever he called me that."   
Kitty hurled a stuffed dragon against the wall. "Ugh! What did I ever see in him?! I know I'm not, like, so shallow that I'll go out with someone based purely on his looks!"   
"What...what are you saying?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound less hopeful than what she was feeling. Kitty scowled.   
"I'm saying that Lance 'The Jerk' Alvers and I are through!" she hissed. She angrily reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of tickets, glaring daggers at them. "And to think I stood in line all morning just to get these stupid tickets for that stupid show of that stupid World Wrestling Federation! I am so never gonna waste this kind of time on a stupid _boy_ again!"   
"So, Lance likes the WWF?" She arched one eyebrow, somehow managing to keep her voice casual.   
"Yeah." Kitty nodded viciously. "And now I'm going to take great pleasure in ripping these two tickets to pieces!"   
"Er...maybe that's not such a wise idea," her friend spoke up quickly. "Here, if you don't want these tickets, I'll be glad to take them off your hands. I have a...um, _friend_...who's totally into pro wrestling."   
"Are you sure you want them? I mean, with two over-muscled guys trying to destroy each other right in front of you, it's bound to get pretty wild out there," Kitty said questioningly.   
"I'll be okay," her friend assured her. Kitty shrugged, and handed over the tickets.   
"Sure, why not? I mean, if I had to look at anything that Lance likes for another _second,_ I'd go crazy," she muttered. "So, who's your friend?"   
"Oh, you wouldn't know him," the other girl replied vaguely. Clearing her throat, she ventured to ask, "Kitty?"   
"Hmm?" The freshman was gathering up the remains of her Backstreet _Boys_ poster to throw them into the fireplace. Turning around, Kitty was promptly confronted by a glossy poster, as her friend said, "I know you don't like Backstreet _Boys_ and _Lance_ Bass, but was it really necessary to draw Devil horns and a goatee on Scott Stapp on my Creed poster?"   
Kitty broke into a guilty smile.   
"Oh, oops. It's just that Scott Stapp's hairstyle kind of reminds me of Lance." She shrugged. "Sorry. Guess I got a little carried away." 

* * *

_Ding dong._   
Pietro Maximoff flung the door open so fast that he nearly cracked the unfortunate visitor right in the nose, as the silver-haired youth poked his head out the house to bark crankily, "What?!" His irritable frown turned into a patronizing sneer, when he recognized the young woman standing on the door steps.   
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Little Miss--" he began to mock, before she cut him off impatiently.   
"Pietro, I don't really have time for your little shenanigans today," she spoke tiredly. Clearing her throat, she began in a hesitant voice, "Is Lance home...?"   
At that moment, there was the sound of fearsome rumbling, and a few tiny chunks of the cracked ceiling cluttered down onto the ground.   
" 'Scuse me, will ya?" Pietro said in a falsely gracious tone, before turning his head to face upstairs and yelling, "Blob, how many times do I have to tell you, you're fat and blubbery because of your mutation, so there's no point in trying to exercise and lose weight!" The rumbling stopped, and Pietro turned back to his visitor with a satisfied look on his face. "Now, you were saying...?"   
She was staring at him, openmouthed.   
"How...how can you tell whether it's Fred or, you know, Lance?" she ventured timidly. At that, holier-than-thou Pietro gave her a what-are-you-stupid? look, before bragging, "Oh, it's really quite easy. See, the Blob tends to make these minor quakes--maybe a 5.4 on the Richter scale--while Rocky upstairs has a slightly more fearsome score of, oh, around a 12.1"   
Just then, a terrifying quake nearly shook the house right out of its foundation. Pietro grimaced, as if his point had just been demonstrated.   
"So, what brings one of you Mighty X-Geeks to the lowly Brotherhood abode?" he demanded snidely. She took a deep breath, wondering whether she should go through with what she had planned, before firmly pushing all doubts out of her mind and stating, "I want to talk to Avalanche." At this, Pietro gave her a questioning look, but for once refrained from opening his mouth.   
"Oh Lance..." he began in a singsong voice. 

"Hey there, Princess." Lance exited the Brotherhood house, closing the door firmly behind him. "What do you want to talk about? And if it's about Kitty, I want to let you know that I already got a threatening phone call from Summers."   
She had to crack a smile at that comment.   
"No, no, it's not about Kitty." She took a deep breath, before beginning to speak. "Um, you see, I have these two tickets to a--"   
"Will you excuse me for just a second, Princess?" Lance had a weird smile on his face as he said those words. Her eyes widened, as Lance twisted the doorknob, and viciously slammed the door backwards. There was the sound of wood hitting flesh, followed a tumbling noise that ended in a resounding smack.   
"Ouchy!" Pietro and Todd's voices could be heard ringing out. Lance once again closed the door, satisfied.   
"Now, Princess, you were saying...?"   
Her mouth had dropped open in surprise, before she quickly closed it. Blinking, she cleared her throat and mumbled out in a quick rush of words, "Um, it's just that I have two tickets for WWF Raw next Monday, and I was...um, I was wondering...if you would like to go with me?" 

* * *

Aah, the plot thickens. I think I might have the candidate for the mystery girl narrowed down to three from the six possible candidates. What an improvement! Me feels very proud. Oh, and for those of you who don't know, Jamie is the twelve-or-thirteen-year-old new recruit Multiple. I figured he'd be the only one young enough to have a secret stash of Hardy Boys novels (and believe me, I know about those things--I mean, I read Babysitters' Club when I was eleven, and Sweet Valley High when I was thirteen. Yeesh, I can't believe how dumb I was!). 


	4. Sacrifice

She studied her reflection in the full length mirror critically, before deciding that the blue cargo pants and lime-colored fishnet top looked better than the black leather pants and dark green tank top. As she threw the rejected outfit back into her closet, there was the sound of soft knocking, before Kitty tentatively poked her head into the room.   
"Can I come in?" she asked quietly, and slowly entered upon the other girl's brief nod. The chestnut-haired freshman sighed, as she plopped down onto the bed, then took notice of the rather wild outfit and arched one eyebrow questioningly.   
"I figured if I was going to a WWF event, I might as well look the part," her friend felt compelled to explain.   
"Oh," was all Kitty said. If she thought the outfit showed a bit too much skin, she kept that thought, amongst others, to herself. Having had the spotlight shone on her own clothing, the other girl seemed to finally take notice of the baggy white sweater and ripped old jeans that Kitty had thrown on.   
"Aren't you planning on doing anything fun later tonight?" she asked lightly. Kitty shrugged her slim shoulders.   
"It's not like I have guys lined up around the block asking me out on dates or anything--in fact, the last time I went out was with Lance, and we broke up a week ago," she mumbled, toying with one strand of her hair. Clearing her throat, she added, "And besides, it's Monday night. I should be studying. Unlike you, I have a major history test tomorrow, and really can't afford to go to some WWF show even if I wanted to--which I don't."   
"Okay." Her friend tried to keep her voice light, but for some reason it cracked and ended in a high note, as feelings of guilt flooded her. Somehow, she still felt responsible for Lance and Kitty breaking up. _Stop it, _she told herself sternly. _Kitty broke up with Lance because of the way he behaved at the Backstreet Boys concert. It was nothing to do with you. _Kitty shot her a weird look at hearing the way her word was spoken.   
"Are you all right? I mean, you don't have, like, a cold or anything, do you?" she asked, and the genuine concern in her voice only made the other girl feel guiltier than she already was.   
"No, I'm fine," she said quickly. "Just a, um, you know, sore throat."   
"Oh, okay," Kitty accepted her excuse without a second thought. A sudden smile lit up her face, as she suddenly asked out of the blue, "So, when are you going to tell me who this guy friend of yours is? Because I know you wouldn't go to a two-hour live wrestling show just for the heck of it."   
"Oh, it's not that important," her friend tried to dismiss the idea quickly, a blush beginning to stain her rosy cheeks. Kitty's smile grew wider.   
"Come on, who is it?" Her blue eyes gleamed teasingly, as she asked, "Is it a new boyfriend?"   
At that, the blush grew deeper, until the other girl was positively flaming scarlet.   
"Hopefully after tonight, he will be," she mumbled to herself. Clearing her throat, she said to Kitty, "Oh, it's just a good friend from gym class. He, um, is a major fan of that Stone Cold guy, whatever, and since the main event features the World Champion against the--the Stone Cold whatever--"   
"Oh, you mean Stone Cold Steve Austin?" Kitty spoke up casually. Her friend nodded.   
"Yeah, Steve Austin, so you know, I figured he'd never forgive me if there were two tickets available and I didn't do anything about it," she finished lamely. Clearing her throat, she added curiously, "By the way, since when did you bother to find out wrestlers' names?"   
A thundercloud passed over Kitty's eyes.   
"SCSA happens to be Lance's favorite pro wrestler," she muttered darkly. The other girl blushed again at the mention of his name, and felt another wave of guilt hit her as she once again thought over what she was doing. _Stop it,_ she told herself sternly. _You've made the decision to sacrifice this friendship with Kitty to be with Lance, you might as well stick with it._ Out loud, she said, "Oh dear, I'm going to be late. Bye, I've got to meet my friend and go to the arena for the Stone Cold...whatever." And she flew out of her room and down the stairs before Kitty could even blink. 

* * *

Lance was waiting for her three blocks away from the X-Mansion, just as they'd planned. He straightened up from where he'd been leaning against his Jeep, and greeted with a brief nod.   
"Glad you made it, Princess," he said lightly, as he opened the passenger's door for her. His eyebrows rose a few centimeters when he took notice of her outfit, but he made no comment about it and instead simply got into the driver's side.   
"So what took you so long?" the tall senior asked casually as he shifted into drive and began to pull away from the curb. The slim girl seated next to him carelessly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, before answering, "Kurt was bugging me about giving him one of the tickets to WWF Raw."   
"Oh, really?" Lance's voice held an amused tone. "I never knew the Mighty Blue One was man enough to enjoy a wrestling show."   
She shot him a dirty look for the comment, to which he promptly and methodically apologized, before admitting with a giggle, "In the 'Mighty Blue One's' own words, 'Who cares about the grown men faking punches at each other? I just want to see Trish Stratus and Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley in the Whipping Match scheduled for tonight'."   
"Well, I couldn't disagree with him on that," Lance joked, before once again apologizing under her look. "So how'd you ditch the elf?"   
"I cracked him over the head with a sledgehammer and dumped him into the lake," she joked.   
"Well good for you, Princess," Lance approved, to which she giggled before admitting, "No, I told him that the Victoria's Secret catalogue had arrived, and snuck out through the back window when he went down to check."   
"Ah, beauty and brains, I like that, Princess," Lance complimented, and she was thankful that he was keeping his eyes focused on the road, or otherwise he would have seen the immediate blush that stained her cheeks upon his words. Lance made a left turn, and announced cheerfully, "Well, here we are...What?" He was cut off in mid-sentence, as both he and his date for the evening gaped openmouthed at the jam-packed arena parking lot, and the tens of thousands of people milling about, waiting impatiently to get inside. The girl's eyes flicked over to the scoreboard on the arena walls, which boldly proclaimed in bright yellow lights, "WWF RAW TONIGHT! SOLD OUT!"   
"Hn. No kidding," she muttered irritably, and flipped her hair out of her eyes with a single toss of her head.   
"Hey, don't worry, Princess," Lance tried to assure her. "I've seen worse at that BSB crap fest, I can handle it. Hopefully, wrestling enthusiasts are as easy to cut off for a parking space as drooling thirteen-year-old teenyboppers and their grouchy mothers." 

* * *

"I can't believe how hot it is in here," she murmured, as she and Lance pushed and shoved their way through the jam-packed arena for their seats. An entrance theme was playing loudly on the TitanTron, and she could barely catch a glimpse of a tall, apparently male figure making his way into the back before the production crew went to a commercial break.   
"Great, now it looks like we've missed the first half hour of the show," she muttered in a low voice. Lance, meanwhile, had found their surprisingly good seats in the fifth row, and was motioning for her to sit down next to him--something which she didn't exactly refuse.   
"Hey, don't worry about it, Princess," Lance told her smoothly. "The first half hour is always a long and boring interview cut by one of the owners or their boys, and you'll see exactly what the promo was all about in a neatly-packaged, two-to-five-minute-long replay right after the first commercial break."   
Just then, the commercials ended, and a replay of the promo promptly lit up the TitanTron screen. Lance turned to her smugly, and said, "See? What'd I tell you, Princess?" 

She was smiling to herself, paying absolutely zero attention to the action in the ring and instead studying Lance's profile out of the corner of her eyes, when a weight crashed right into her back, sending her sprawling forward and almost onto her face.   
"Princess? You okay?" Lance reached out, and quickly pulled her back. Once he was sure that she was fine, he added teasingly, "Hey, I know Rob Van Dam and Chris Jericho are probably considered quite attractive by most females, but neither one of them should you literally fall for."   
She blushed, and muttered distractedly, "No, it's not that," before glancing back and up to see who had shoved her. A pair of clear, ocean-blue eyes stared right back at her, as a tall, slender high school-age girl with long platinum locks and sleek legs to kill for feigned concern.   
"Oh, did I hit you?" she shrilled nasally in an almost comically high-pitched voice. Turning to a lanky, skinny girl with limp, unkempt hair and stuffed into an ill-fitting pink cotton dress and yellow stockings, the leggy blonde squeaked, "Look at what you made me do, Tori. You made me bump into this very nice young lady and her boyfriend whom she's trying to impress!"   
"Jeez, sorry, _Patricia," _Tori muttered in a surprisingly masculine voice, crossing her arms grumpily and emphasizing the other girl's name. Patricia turned and plastered a big, phony smile on her heavily made-up face.   
"So sorry, Miss. Guess _Tori_ and I just weren't watching where we were going?" She fluttered her long, dark lashes in fake concern. "You _are_ okay, aren't you?"   
"Sure," she muttered, crossing her long legs and turning around, shifting slightly in her seat. 

"Time to play the game..."   
As soon as the particular heavy-metal entrance theme hit, the entire arena practically exploded with excitement, as the crowd packed into the audience stood up and screamed their lungs out, clapping and cheering creating a frightening raucous. Lance himself stood up and cheered along with the others, pulling his bewildered Princess up with him. As she stood there, confused and managing to force out a few half-hearted claps, she asked, "Um...I hate to sound so clueless, but just exactly whom are we cheering for?"   
"Triple H," came Lance's prompt response. _Oh, yeah, _that_ just really answers all of my questions,_ she thought to herself, as she made a mental note to check out the official WWF website later that night and find out just exactly why this Triple H guy was so popular.   
"And, um, just exactly why are we cheering for this Triple Whatever person?" she asked tentatively, as a muscular six-footer with long, dark blonde hair appeared underneath the TitanTron and slowly began making his walk up the ramp, to which the audience responded by cranking up the noise it was already making--if that was even humanly possible.   
"Well, he's been out for eight months with a quadricep injury, so it's only fair that we give him this kind of reception when he comes back," Lance replied reasonably.   
"Oh," she murmured. 

She was standing there, feeling ridiculously proud for having learned something new and grinning in a rather silly fashion to herself, when suddenly the ringposts exploded in what appeared to be brimstones and hellfire. Being so close to the ring when the pyros exploded, she reacted the only logical way she knew how: she screamed like a...well, like a girl...and jumped into the nearest object her brain deduced safe: Lance's arms. As the pyros subsided to let the eerie chords of organ music resound throughought the arena, she realized that she was still being held by Lance. Her eyes shyly traveled up to meet his, as the two stood there, and she began to blush furiously.   
"Oh, um," she stuttered intelligently. "I...I'm sorry for...for overreacting like that..." 

Just then, there was a sudden flash of light, as a familiar, high-pitched voice shrilled, "Oh, that was just magnífico, fantastique!" The nasal words being spoken so suddenly broke her out of her trance, as she quickly pulled away from Lance, her face flaming red, and turned around to see the leggy, platinum-haired girl who'd nearly sent her sprawling face-first into the crowd--she vaguely remembered her name to be something along the lines of Patricia--smirking widely as though she'd just gotten hold of some convicting evidence and holding a Polaroid camera. She turned her attention briefly to the ring to see whether the thing that, according to Patricia, had been 'magnífico, fantastique' concerned the action in the squared circle, then determined that it couldn't be possible when she realized that the bell had just rung and the two men were still locked up in the center of the ring. Turning her attention back to the cat-that-ate-the-canary-style smirk on Patricia's face, she deduced that it must have had something with...with the embrace--or whatever one wanted to call it--that she'd just shared with Lance. Patricia seemed to notice she'd caught on, and tittered before quickly shrilling, "Oh, did you think that it was about you?" When her response came via the form of stony silence, she giggled, "No, no, not at all! It's just that I happen to find masked men who come out to pyros very attractive." The other girl turned around at last, shaking her head and muttering, "Well, if there are people that actually like Hanson, then I suppose I shouldn't be surprised." 

* * *

"I...I had a really good time tonight," she stammered awkwardly, as she sat there in the Jeep with Lance long after the show had ended.   
"Me too," Lance murmured softly, and for a moment there it looked as if though he was going to say something else, before he quickly changed his mind and kept his mouth closed.   
"So..." Her voice trailed off, as she played around with her hair.   
"So..." Lance echoed uncertainly, keeping his eyes fixed on anything but her face.   
"So...I'll see you in school tomorrow," she finally said, as she impulsively reached over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before swiftly hopping out of the car. Tightening her coat around her, she turned around and caught the surprised look on Lance's face, as his hand instinctively went up to his cheek. She waved a shy good-bye, glad that it was dark so he couldn't see her blushing. He returned her wave after a while, before starting up the engine of his Jeep and making a U-turn, returning to the Brotherhood house. 

She sighed to herself as she walked the three blocks to the X-Mansion, having insisted that Lance drop her off there so she wouldn't have to risk anyone finding out just who exactly her mystery date was. As the X-Mansion finally came into sight, she felt relief wash through her, knowing that her secret was safe--for now, anyway. Unfortunately for her, this was one of the rare instances when she was wrong, as she reached out to open the door only to have it flung wide open by someone. Someone who was apparently very, very angry.   
"Ki...Kitty," she stammered, as she leaned back in surprise, alarm instantly shooting through her body. Kitty's normally sunny face was contorted into a nasty expression full of fury, as she spat out venomously and in a bitingly sarcastic tone, "So, did you have fun with your new boyfriend..._Princess?!"_

* * *

Well, I finally got off my lazy butt and finished the latest chapter in my ongoing ficcie. Sorry it took me so long to update, but I've been...um, busy. With...um, stuff *mentally makes note to bug someone for more lessons on guy talk*. Okay, I think I finally know who I want our mystery girl to be, but I'm not sure yet; I'll make the decision once the fifth chapter is complete. Unfortunately, you'll kind of have to wait for said chapter, since I'm catching the live kickoff to the first Creed concert of the year on VH1 on Wedsneday night (heh, yep, Wednesday night's the night that I'll be completely and utterly ignoring my fic to pledge my undying love and loyalty to Scott, Mark, and Flip -_-), and won't be able to update till the very earliest Friday night. Sorry. But I promise I'll really make it up to you guys with the fifth chapter. Scout's honor *conveniently forgets that she's never even been a Scout* 


	5. Confrontation

"So," Kitty spat out sarcastically, "did you have fun with your new boyfriend, _Princess?!"_   
She was so surprised, that she literally stumbled back a couple of feet, and would have fallen straight on her behind had she not been wearing flat-heeled tennis shoes.   
"How...how did you know?" she finally choked out in a strangled voice, while mentally shooting down the idea to just turn on her heels and run away from the furious freshman.   
"'Gee, I don't know," Kitty replied sarcastically. "Hmm, let me think, could it have anything to do with the fact that _Pietro couldn't wait to throw it in my face?!"_   
A confused expression lit up the other girl's face upon hearing the last part of Kitty's sentence. Pietro? What could he possibly have on her and Lance...? Her heart sank, as she remembered the two 'girls_'--Patricia_ and _Tori--_from the wrestling arena. _Patricia and Tori indeed,_ she thought to herself bitterly, as she realized that they had simply been Pietro and his buddy Todd in drag...erm, disguise. A sudden thought crossed her mind, as inwardly her brain screamed, _Oh, my God, Pietro shaves his legs!,_ remembering the sleek legs to die for that the platinum-haired 'Patricia' had proudly sported. _Oh, my God, Pietro shaves his legs!_ she repeated silently to herself, as she grunted under her breath, "Hn, should have known that." _Hmm, I wonder what type of blade he uses..._her mind began to wander off.   
"Ahem," Kitty's pointed voice brought her back to reality, and she turned around to face her undoubtedly soon-to-be-ex-friend, who raised an eyebrow and commented snidely, "I'm sorry, is this too boring for you? Are you so used to confrontations like these because you steal other people's boyfriends on a daily basis?"   
At this remark, the other girl let out an indignant huff, as she pointed out in a clipped tone, "Might I remind you that you and Lance were on a break?!"   
"Well, well, well, _somebody's_ been watching a bit too much _Friends_ lately, now hasn't she?" Kitty retorted. The other girl's eyebrows nearly flew off her head, offended.   
"Are you suggesting that I...that I just seduce guys into sleeping with me right after they've broken up with a complete and total airhead?!" she snapped, furious.   
"Look who's talking, you...you...you filthy, dirty, disgusting, skanky, brutal, bottom-feeding, trashbag ho!" Kitty, who couldn't come up with a better insult herself, decided to steal one from Chris Jericho (she'd remembered the particular insult from the one time when she'd agreed to watch wrestling with Lance).   
"WHAT?" the other girl hollered in outrage, unwittingly quoting Stone Cold Steve Austin and Lance's favorite pro wrestler. Apparently, Lance was the center of their argument to the last detail, to the point where the two girls were even basing their insults around him. 

At that moment, Scott and Kurt walked down the stairs to get a late night snack, but promptly stopped mid-way upon hearing Kitty snipe, "Well, at least _I'm_ not the one who hangs up some Creed poster in her room just to drool over a shirtless Scott Stapp!" Intrigued, and perhaps just a little bit intimidated, the two boys decided to stay planted where they were and watch, awaiting the impending catfight that was soon to occur, sooner or later (Kurt was showing signs of curious eagerness at the prospect of a catfight, Scott was just relieved that Kitty had said the last name Stapp after 'shirtless' and 'Scott').   
"No, you're just the one who kisses very bad headshots of J.C. and Justin good-night, each and every night, right before you go to bed!" the other girl retorted, shoving Kitty with one hand. Kitty huffed, furious, and snarled back, "Well, at least _I_ didn't cry my eyes out when the radio started playing _With Arms Wide Open_ for the gazillionth time!" while shoving her former friend right back.   
"Yeah, well at least _I_ didn't cry _my_ eyes out while MTV was playing that ridiculous _Bye Bye Bye_ video for the fiftieth time in ten minutes!" the other girl snapped, returning the freshman's favor but much harder and with both hands now, sending Kitty sprawling backwards and nearly crashing into a nearby sofa. Kitty, after regaining her balance, hopped up, and shrieked, "You take that back!" before dealing a hard slap on her opponent, right on the cheek. The thunderous sound resounded throughought the living room, and watching upstairs, Kurt cringed and was secretly relieved that Kitty had flatly turned him down each and every time he'd tried the latest pick-up line on her. The other girl staggered a bit, then sprung up, face flaming scarlet both from fury and from the blow that had landed squarely on her cheek.   
"Why you...!" And she slapped Kitty right back. 

Slap! Slap! Those seemed to be the magic sounds, as they promptly unleashed a full force catfight, with an outraged and red-cheeked Kitty spearing her ex-friend to the ground and attempting to wring her neck like a wet towel while repeatedly banging the hapless girl's head against the polished redwood floor. The other girl managed to turn the tables, kicking Kitty's knees out and more than happy to return the favor. Meanwhile, the manly and fearless leader of the X-Men, Scott Summers and his happy-go-lucky sidekick, Kurt Wagner, stood frozen in their spots on the staircase, watching with eyes wide open and mouths agape.   
"Gee, catfights aren't that fun to watch when you're up close," Kurt muttered, as Kitty tried to choke the daylights out of her opponent with her own hair.   
"Hn," Scott grunted intelligently, not knowing what else to do. After a while, Kurt spoke up, nearly shouting to be heard amidst the shrieking and screeching.   
"Erm...shouldn't you be stopping them?" he asked uncertainly, staring with round gold eyes at his leader. Scott reddened, before mumbling something incomprehensible under his breath.   
"What? What did you say, I couldn't hear you!" Kurt raised his voice a notch, flinching at the sound of a thunderous slap being dealt.   
"Why don't _you_ stop them?" Scott retorted, taking the spotlight away from him. Kurt coughed. He cleared his throat. He poked his foot around the floor, seemingly fascinated by the polished rosewood. After a good five minutes of fidgeting, he finally grunted out sulkily, "Yah, well, I am man enough to admit that I'm too scared of getting my butt handed to me on a silver platter by two gorgeous yet extremely dangerous ladies."   
"Hn," Scott grunted, and inwardly agreed rather reluctantly with Kurt's words, deeming it un-leaderly to admit he was scared of two girls who seemed to think that hair-tossing and slapping was the best way to settle an argument.   
"Well, we both agree that we should at least do _something_ to stop this," he finally spoke up. Kurt watched the catfight raging full-force below, and nodded.   
"Right," he agreed. "Someone should stop those two. Only problem is, I don't think there's anyone brave enough in this house to willingly step amidst the catfight..." 

At that moment, Bobby Drake, looking enviably relaxed in his white-and-blue hockey jersey and contentedly munching on a fresh red apple, appeared at the head of the stairs.   
"Hey, guys," the new recruit called out cheerfully, a big, sunny smile lighting up his face, obviously unaware of the carnage below. He added cheerfully, "Just going downstairs for some milk!"   
Kurt and Scott exchanged meaningful looks and grunts, before simultaneously nodding and turning around, eyeing Bobby with frightening, intense looks on their faces. Bobby began to look nervous, as he warily backed away from the two older recruits and their bizarre expressions.   
"Um...what are you going to do...buddies?" the poor kid asked nervously. 

"Ready? One, two, three!"   
And with that, Scott and Kurt, who'd picked up Bobby and was aiming him like a battering ram, promptly threw the hapless X-kid right down the stairs and into the midst of tangled limbs and mussed hair.   
"Aaaah!"   
Even Scott and Kurt had to cringe at the heartbreaking--albeit far too girly--scream that came before a solid thud. The girls, meanwhile, reacted as though they hadn't even noticed that a boy had just landed amidst them, and the catfight ensued. Scott and Kurt watched on in dismay, noting that Bobby's manly presence had failed to stop all the hair-pulling and mad shrieking. If anything, he seemed to contribute to most of the shrill screeching himself.   
"Ow! Hey! Don't do that, that's my favorite jersey! Hey, what the...! Okay, okay, not the hair, anything but the hair...Yeowch! Who knew girls could punch? No, no, not that way! Okay, I think that last slap was unnecessary...Eep! Not there! No, not there! Anywhere but there! My hair! Ow! Hey, cut that out...!"   
Finally, in a feeble attempt to stop the madness, poor Bobby curled himself up into a tiny ball and coated a solid layer of ice around himself, freezing out the slapping and hair-tossing.   
"Don't freeze yourself, you idiot, freeze them!" Scott and Kurt barked in unison. Bobby huffily unfroze himself, and muttered, "I just can't do anything to please you, now can I?" while grudgingly complying with the older recruits' orders, as he stretched out both hands and gently touched the floor. 

Apparently, ice was the only thing that could help the two girls chill out. Or maybe it was just simply the fact that it would be kind of difficult to carry on a catfight when both combatants were frozen to the floor from the knee down.   
"Hey!"   
"What the...!"   
Bobby unfroze himself and stood back, admiring his work, then eeped and stepped out of the way as the two girls glared daggers at him. Meanwhile, the manly Scott and Kurt had very bravely stepped out from their hiding place, now that both girls were firmly frozen to the floor.   
"So, uh...either one of you care to explain why you were trying to kill each other down there?" Scott, having taken the duty upon himself as the leader, spoke up hesitantly. Kitty struggled to free herself from her icy bonds, then gave up when Bobby's handiwork refused to crack even an inch, and tossed a death glare in her former friend's direction.   
"Why don't you ask _her?"_ she spat out nastily. "She's the one running around stealing other people's boyfriends!"   
The other girl let out an indignant huff.   
"For your information, you plainly told me yourself that you and Lance were history!" she pointed out in a clipped tone. "Or are you just turning from an ex-girlfriend into an obsessive mother because your own love life's so pathetic?"   
"Oh, look who's talking!" Kitty snarled. _"You're_ the one who's been secretly mooning over someone else's boyfriend while making a shrine out to some rock star!"   
"First of all, a few posters does not count as a shrine, and second of all, if you and Lance were so much in love, how come you were always kissing those boy band posters?" her ex-friend hurled back acidly.   
"Oh, you were always a jealous old hag of me and Lance...!" Kitty began to shrill, at the same time that the other girl started shrieking, "You're just a pathetic, flat-chested brat who's got nothing better to do than kiss stupid posters...!"   
Kurt and Scott held their hands over their ears as the noise level in the room increased dramatically--yet once again--while glaring accusingly over in Bobby's direction and growling in one voice, "Can't you just freeze the upper half as well?"   
Bobby shrugged helplessly, both hands firmly clamped over his ears as well.   
"Not unless you want them both to get hypothermia," he shouted back, struggling to be heard above the shrilly screeched insults that were flying back and forth. 

"What is going on in here?"   
The stern, obviously adult female voice seemed to turn on the Off switch of the noise level, as both girls topped their shouting match and fell into guilty silence while the bravely cowering boys stopped their whimpering, already knowing who had spoken but still looking over in the voice's direction anyway. Ororo Monroe, a.k.a. Storm, swept the chaos with a disapproving look in her blue eyes. Next to her was Professor Xavier, quietly sitting in his wheelchair and wearing an obviously disappointed frown on his face, having already found out what the trouble was all about. Ororo, meanwhile, looked from one guilty face to the other, and patiently repeated her words.   
"I'll ask you once again," she began, softly but firmly. "What is going on in here?" 

* * *

Well, as promised, here's the latest installment of my ongoing ficcie. Sorry it took me a bit longer than expected to update, you see, I spent two days watching the tape of the live kickoff to the Creed concert (mmm...Scott Stapp in leather pants *switches to smitten schoolgirl mode*), and then when I was ready to wear down my keyboard, I found out I had to write a stupid paper for Spanish! Yecch! Oh, well, at least I finally updated, albeit a bit later than I promised. Forgive me? Pwetty pwease? -_- 


	6. Feud

It was seven-forty in the morning when Kitty strutted down the stairs and past the dining room, a half-eaten granola bar in her hand. She nodded a brief greeting to Storm, but pointedly ignored the slim girl seated at the dining table, who was half-heartedly using her fork and knife to cut her French toast into tiny pieces.   
"Hey, Storm, I'm going to school now, 'kay?" Kitty called out, and started to scurry past the room.   
"Hi, _Kitty,"_ a pointed female voice spoke up with obviously phony friendliness. Kitty paused, before retracing her steps and turning around to face the speaker.   
"Hi, _Princess,"_ she spat out sarcastically, but the other girl remained unfazed at hearing Lance's nickname for her coming out of his ex-girlfriend. Instead, she examined Kitty contemptuously, before arching one eyebrow and remarking snidely, "Nice outfit, Cats. You'll blend in perfectly at the airport Hooters. I especially like how low-cut your dress is, especially since, you know, you really don't have the cleavage at all for it!" The nasty remark caught Storm's attention, and she looked up from her gardening magazine, about to chastise the other girl for her offending words. However, one look at the revealing red dress that Kitty was sporting pushed all lectures of never letting a man come between two friends way into the back of her mind. The elegant, silver-haired young woman stood up, and cleared her throat discreetly.   
"Kitty, I'm afraid that dress really _is_ too inappropriate to be worn at school. I suggest you go upstairs and change into something more suitable for learning," she suggested quietly. In other words, cover them up or you're grounded for the next two weeks. The other girl sat there, a smugly satisfied smirk on her face as she nodded along wisely to Storm's stern words, while Kitty stood in place and stewed, glaring murderous daggers at her former friend.   
"You're just jealous because you're too large to fit in this dress," she scorned venomously. At this, the other girl leapt up, furious.   
"You better watch what you're saying!" she bit out, outraged. Calming down, she added, "Especially since we both know that you're just trying to show enough skin so that you can seduce Lance into getting back together."   
Kitty glared back.   
"Oh, and like _you_ aren't?" she remarked contemptuously. In response, the other girl smirked, before smugly twirling around in place, showing off her silky long black coat and matching cowboy hat.   
"Oh, yeah, now _this_ will really make me look like a two-cent slut," she scorned.   
Kitty bristled.   
"Afraid to show a little skin, huh, Princess?" she retorted instead. "Gee, I wonder what exactly you're trying to cover up underneath that coat of yours!"   
"Oh, that's it!" The other girl lunged at Kitty, who didn't back away at all, and Storm had to step in between and break the two girls up before a full-force catfight could be unleashed.   
"That's enough!" the regal African woman ordered sternly, and at her words both girls fell silent. "We agreed the other night that the two of you were going to coexist peacefully, as teammates. If you can't do that, then one of you will have to move in with Rahne, at the far end of the house."   
Silence, as the two girls hung their heads, somewhat hesitant to speak up. Storm calmed down, and, seeing that her words had gotten through, reminded gently, "Kitty, you should go upstairs and change."   
"I'd better go, now, or I'll be late," the second girl coughed, and exited the dining room as Kitty stormed upstairs, in search of a less revealing outfit. 

She darted into the garage, and looked around, in case there were any potential witness lurking in the shadows. When she was satisfied that nobody was in sight, she scurried over to the nearest car, flinging her belongings into the backseat.   
"I feel like Britney Spears at the Video Music Awards," she grumbled to herself, as she quickly stripped off her silky black coat and cowboy hat, to reveal the tight-fitting black leather tank top and pink hot pants underneath. Hopping into the driver's seat, she turned the key in the ignition and swiftly backed out of the garage, managing to catch a glimpse of the now jeans-and-sweater-clad Kitty's outraged face as she caught sight of the sexy outfit that the other girl had been hiding underneath the innocent trench coat all along. 

* * *

"Thirty-two, one, twenty-six," she murmured, repeating her locker's combination to herself as she twisted the dial. There was a clicking sound, as the locker door popped open, and she reached inside and pulled out a heavy geography textbook.   
"Hey, I see you've gone shopping over the weekend, Princess," a familiar voice spoke up, and she quickly turned around, slamming her locker shut behind her.   
"Hi, Lance," she spoke up, suddenly feeling shy. Twirling around in her outfit, she added, more boldly, "Yeah, do you like it?"   
"It's...uh...well, it's very pink," Lance finally remarked, not knowing what else to say. _Darn,_ she thought silently to herself. _Pink will remind him of Kitty. I knew I should have gone with the gold ones!_   
"Did you say something, Princess?" Lance arched one eyebrow, and she blushed, not realizing that she'd been talking to herself.   
"Who me?" She feigned innocence. "I didn't say anything at all."   
"Whatever you say, Princess," Lance replied. "Whatever you say."   
There was a pause, before he went on, "Say...did you by any chance get a prank call from two girls calling themselves Patricia and Tori?"   
She giggled.   
"You know, I've been meaning to ask you, what kind of blade does Pietro use to shave his legs with?" she asked playfully. Lance made a mock despairing face.   
"So you _did_ find out," he moaned in dismay. "Well, there's one Brotherhood cat that's been let out of the bag."   
"You mean there's more secrets?" She fluttered her eyebrows, pretending to be shocked. Lance grinned boyishly.   
"Princess, the Brotherhood has so many skeletons in its closet that we have to force the Blob to guard it against neighborhood dogs," he quipped. She giggled again.   
"Oh, really?" Innocence was splashed all across her words. "You know, us X-Men have some secrets of our own..." She deliberately let her voice trail off. Lance leaned closer.   
"Oh, yeah?"   
She felt a jolt of electricity at being so close to him, but a flirtatious courage had overtaken her.   
"Yeah," she breathed softly, gazing deep into his eyes. 

"What is going on here?" a disapproving male voice spoke up suddenly, breaking her out of her trance. Lance snapped away from her, and both of them turned around to see Scott Summers standing not far away, a frown on his serious features. Lance smirked lazily.   
"Nothing that concerns you, Mr. Stick In The Mud," he spat out. Scott's eyes narrowed, as one hand almost instinctively went to his shades.   
"If you have any tricks up your sleeve, Alvers..." His voice trailed off threateningly. Lance raised an eyebrow.   
"Hey, back off, Summers," he snapped coldly. "Or are you so overprotective that you won't even let your recruits talk with a member of the Brotherhood?"   
"Nothing good's ever come out of talking with you low-lifes," Scott replied in a clipped tone. Lance straightened up.   
"Are you suggesting that we're inferior to you and your little group of holier-than-thou freaks?" His voice began to rise.   
"It doesn't really take much for someone to be superior than you and your clique of degenerates, now does it?" Scott remarked. She watched the exchange with tense eyes, and spoke up quietly, "Hey, come on, you two. Knock it off."   
Scott and Lance faced off, as if about to get into a physical confrontation. Fortunately, though, the warning bell rang, and Lance growled, "Forget it; I ain't gonna get detention over something as meaningless as this!" and stormed off. She gazed longingly at his retreating back, and made a motion as if to run after him, before catching herself and staying planted in place. Clearing her throat uncomfortably in the sudden silence, she busied herself by pretending to browse through her textbook.   
"Well?" Scott's voice was almost accusing. She glanced up guiltily from her schoolwork.   
"Well, what?" she asked innocently, trying to avoid the subject.   
"Don't try to be cute," Scott remarked irritably. "What were you doing hanging all over him?"   
"I wasn't 'hanging all over him'," she remarked defensively in a tiny voice. Scott sighed.   
"You know, I really don't want you flirting with a member of the Brotherhood," he said softly. "I'm really doing this for your own good. Sooner or later, he'll just end up hurting you." And with that, he walked away, heading off for Trigonometry. She glared after him.   
"And like you're not doing just that by acting like such a jerk around Lance?" she muttered, as she pivoted on her heels, and ran off to catch her next class. 

* * *

Dinnertime at the Xavier Institute seemed to be getting more and more strained and silent lately, as all the members of the X-Men sat around the long, oval redwood table, an icy tension hanging heavily in the air. Most of the tension was emanating from the two girls who sat opposite each other, but somehow still managing to keep up their growing animosity toward each other.   
"So, um...did anything interesting happen at school today?" Hank spoke up nervously, trying to break the ice.   
"Actually, something interesting _did_ happen," Kitty began, a nasty gleam in her eyes. "Now, I'm not going to mention any names or anything, but I'd like to point out that a certain someone paraded around school today decked out like a hooker!" And she shot a phony smile at the girl sitting across from her, who simply glared and tossed back her hair with one flip of her head.   
"Oh, really?" Storm arched an eyebrow, and looked questioningly in the direction of a certain someone who'd worn a black coat and cowboy hat to school earlier that morning. The girl in question blushed, and lowered her head, playing around with the corn on her plate. To get the spotlight off of her, she spoke up snidely, "You know, that's what's funny. You see, there's this crazy rumor circulating around the girl's locker room that a certain pathetic freshman tried to get back together with Lance by literally dumping herself at his feet during lunch today!" At this cruel jab, Kitty's eyebrows nearly flew off her face, as she let out an outraged shriek, before grabbing the nearest projectile around and flinging it at the speaker. The other girl blinked as a cold carrot stick bounced off against her forehead, before giving an indignant huff and happily returning the favor with a barrage of lima beans. Kitty sputtered, and spat out soft green beans, glaring daggers.   
"Girls, that's enough," Storm began warningly, but by this time neither party was even willing to listen to reason, and Kitty proved it by grabbing the pitcher of iced tea and splashing it across her teammate's face and hair, lemons and all. The other girl shrieked as a torrent of icy cold tea and sliced lemons cascaded down her hair and soaking through her T-shirt.   
"Oh, that is it!" she growled, as she grabbed the gravy bowl with both hands, leaning halfway across the table and dumping its scalding hot contents right into Kitty's face and lap. Kitty let out a screech, shaking her head wildly to get the hot gravy out of her eyes, bouncy ponytail slicked and drenched.   
"Why you...!" she shrieked, as she leaned over and dealt a thunderous slap across the other girl's cheek.   
"That's enough! Stop!" Storm ordered, but her words fell upon deaf ears, as the victim of the slap leapt over the table, scattering plates of food and glasses filled with drinks, sending them clattering noisily to the floor as she tackled Kitty out of her seat and began to furiously wring her neck. The sound of breaking china and glass mixed with the outraged shrieks and screeches, as the other teens leapt out of their own seats, eyes wide with alarm as they watched the hair-pulling and repeated choking in open-mouthed shock. 

"Stop it! Now!" Storm, in a rare flash of fury, allowed her voice to rise to volumes that not even Evan had heard before. The two girls tangled on the floor in a mess of tousled hair and mashed food finally seemed to listen, and miraculously stopped their catfight/foodfight. Storm's blue eyes had darkened with thunderclouds, as she gritted out in a clipped tone, "This is quite enough! Now, I know that both of you realize this, but just in case you've forgotten, you're both members of the X-Men! And I don't care who the boy is, but you'd better learn to put aside your differences and coexist peacefully together, if not as friends, then at the very least as teammates. None of us--not myself, not Professor Xavier, and certainly not the rest of your teammates--will tolerate any more of this infighting. Do you understand?"   
Both girls had lowered their heads, ashamed of their behavior.   
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused in unison, as in the backs of their minds both girls wondered how severe their punishment would be. And that was on top of all the hell that the rest of their teammates would put them through for engaging in a foodfight right on the dinner table. 

* * *

Tabitha Smith was in a bad mood that night. Scratch that, Bad mood, with a capital B. Scratch that, the way she was feeling, nobody ought to be surprised if the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Brotherhood vixen unleashed hell on the unsuspecting streets of Bayville. But not before she was done with her manicure, of course, as Tabitha leaned back in her seat, propped her feet up on a rotting wooden table, and continued painting her nails dark red. One could only imagine her annoyance at having her sacred ritual of applying nail polish interrupted, when the supposedly broken doorbell gave a high-pitched, irritating shrill, indicating that the Brotherhood had a visitor. Tabitha growled, and continued painting her nails, ignoring the doorbell. However, the visitor--whomever he or she was--simply refused to give up, as a second shrill resounded hollowly through the halls of the crumbling Victorian mansion. Tabitha swiveled around in her chair to face the direction of the door...but only long enough to flip off both the door and the visitor on the other side, before resuming her task of painting her nails. Finally, after the twelfth ring, the blonde bombshell could absolutely no longer stand the irritating, almost nasal shrills, and grumpily got up and headed down the hall.   
"All right, all right, I'm coming," she muttered, absently blowing her nails dry. She reached the door and flung it wide open a couple of inches. "What the hell do you want? And make it snappy!" 

A certain chestnut-haired, blue-eyed freshman stood on the other side of the door, index finger poised to ring the doorbell for the fifteenth time. Or was that sixteenth? She'd lost track after the first twelve rings.   
"Like, wow," she murmured. "I was always told that the Brotherhood had a tradition of trying to crack every visitor in the nose whenever they opened the door, but I never knew it was true."   
Tabitha glared contemptuously at the younger girl and former teammate.   
"Well, well, well, look who's here," she drawled, full red lips forming a phony smile that didn't quite reach her blue eyes. Her face quickly darkened into a scowl, as she barked, "Now what the hell do you want?"   
Kitty hesitated, looking suddenly uncertain, as she stood there on the doorsteps.   
"I...I, um...I..." she stammered nervously, fidgeting around and toying with a strand of her hair. Tabitha gave her an irritated glare.   
"Just spit it out already," she snapped, looking annoyed. Kitty took a deep breath, before requesting, "I...I'm here to talk to Lance." 

* * *

And...Stop! Well, now it looks like it's Kitty's turn to visit the humble Brotherhood abode in search of Lance. Dun dun dun! Hate to cut it off right here, but I just don't feel like writing anymore. And in case you haven't noticed yet, I've narrowed down the possible candidates for the readers by cutting out Rahne and Tabitha. Not that that was much help, I can tell. Would have been much easier if it had been either Jean, Rogue, and/or Amara, huh? Hee hee, here's where I'm showing off my evil authoress skills. So, anyway, it won't be long now before the mystery girl's revealed. There's just one chapter left in the _If Only You Knew..._ story, and that chapter will conclude everything...including revealing the girl's name, and whether she hooks up with Lance, or whether Kitty gets back together with him. I've already got most of the chapter outlined and a title picked, but I'm too lazy to write it, and I'm feeling kind of mean right now, so I'll leave you all with a sort of cliffhanger. Mwahahahaha! I am eeeeevil! Indeed! ^_^ 


	7. Beautiful Day

Well, here it is, the very last chapter of _If Only You Knew..._the conclusion to an epic saga, the finale to one of the greatest masterpieces of our times...Okay, okay, I'll stop all the shameless shenanigans and get on with the story. By the way, this is the chapter where our mystery girl's unveiled, so if you would please show at the very least a itty bitty degree of excitement...   
*silence*   
*silence*   
*crickets begin to chirp*'   
*looks offended* Well, I never...!   
Okay, okay, I'll really stop this time! On with the story... 

* * *

"...And that was _Like A Virgin,_ a song dedicated from the self-proclaimed 'Perfect Pietro Maximoff' to Evan 'Bonehead' Daniels," the radio DJ was saying. Kitty, seated in the living room with her feet propped up casually and listlessly trimming her nails, sat up straighter upon hearing said DJ's words. _Hn, Pietro's really outdone himself this time,_ she thought to herself in amusement. _I wonder what Evan'll do to get back at him...?_   
"Next up, we have a dedication of _She Worked Hard For the Money,"_ the DJ announced grandly. A pause. And then..."From Todd, to Tabitha."   
At hearing that, Kitty nearly fell out of her chair.   
"Todd says that this is payback for all those times Tabitha's de-pantsed him in front of the guys," the DJ continued, as the opening chords to the suggestively titled song began playing over the radio loudspeakers.   
"Ugh, I never knew there was so much in-fighting at the Brotherhood household," Kitty muttered to herself, as she returned to doing her nails. 

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Kitty quickly got off her seat and rushed to answer the door. A familiar figure was framed against the doorway, carrying a single red rose. Kitty's face lit up into a sunny grin, as she playfully chastised, "You're late, Alvers," while reaching up to give him a friendly hug. Lance made a grand motion as if to check the invisible watch on his left wrist.   
"Only by five minutes," he protested jokingly. Clearing his throat, the tall senior added in a suddenly serious tone, "Is she here...?"   
Kitty gave a soft smile.   
"Yes," she murmured, in a voice barely above a whisper. And then, louder, she added, "Yes, she's here. She's upstairs. I'll go get her." And with that, the blue-eyed freshman took off. 

Kitty bounded up the stairs, before tapping briefly on the door of a certain girl's room. When her knocking went unheeded for the fifth time, she hesitantly pushed the door open and took a tentative step inside. Rahne Sinclair was lounging on one of the twin beds, carelessly leafing through an issue of _Seventeen, _a pair of headphones jammed over her ears and blasting No Doubt's _Hey Baby. _She glanced up when she sensed someone else in the room, then spotted Kitty and gave an apologetic smile, tugging down the earphones.   
"Oh, hi," Rahne chirped perkily. Then, in a guilty voice, the pretty brunette added, "Guess I didn't hear you knock. Sorry."   
"That's all right," Kitty murmured distractedly, looking around the room in search of a certain someone. Clearing her throat, she finally ventured to ask, "Say, you wouldn't happen to know where you roommate is by any chance, would you?"   
Rahne began to look wary, as she sat up straighter.   
"Sure, she's--" the petite Irish girl started to say.   
"She's right here," a soft female voice spoke up firmly. Both girls glanced in the voice's direction, and noticed that Rahne's new roommate had appeared at the doorway, crossing the hall too quietly to be heard. She arched an eyebrow in Kitty's direction, and spoke in a carefully guarded voice, "You wanted to see me?"   
Kitty hesitated.   
"Yeah," she murmured shyly. "I just wanted to say..."   
Her voice trailed off, as both her and the other girl glanced in Rahne's direction. Rahne got the hint, and quickly scrambled off her bed.   
"I'll, uh, go pay a visit to Kurt," she mumbled, clearing her throat awkwardly as she hurried to scuttle out of the room. The brunette closed the door behind her, dreading an incoming catfight--which had been the reason why the other girl had moved in with her in the first place, seeing as how her room was the farthest one from Kitty's. _Ugh, if they both like Lance so much, why can't one of them just date Sam or something?_ she thought to herself. _He looks like he could be Lance's younger brother, anyway..._

Kitty watched as the other girl calmly strode over and took a seat by the window, picking up the romance novel she'd been reading.   
"So, what do you want to talk about?" she asked, keeping her voice surprisingly neutral. Kitty cleared her throat for the hundredth time, before awkwardly beginning to speak.   
"Look, I'm not here to pick a fight with you," she began quietly. The other girl placed her book onto the polished wooden desk, and sat up straighter. Encouraged, Kitty went on.   
"What I _am_ here for is to tell you that after our...um, foodfight the other night, I realized that I had been feuding with someone I really cared about over an ex-boyfriend with whom _I_ ended the relationship," she went on, almost timidly.   
"Kitty, I--" her supposedly former friend began to speak up, looking uncertain at the freshman's words.   
"And I realized that I was acting jealous and overpossessive--which is, like, totally uncalled for--and all over a great guy with whom I wasn't even dating," Kitty went on in a quick rush of words. "So I went over to the Brotherhood house and had a talk with Lance, to apologize for the way our relationship ended, but also to tell him that it was time to move on, and that if he wanted to date someone else, then I really shouldn't stand in the way."   
The other girl looked like she wanted to burst out crying, but managed to regain control of herself and swallowed hard, clearing her throat several times before speaking.   
"Kitty, I...I don't know what to say," she stammered. "I mean, I should probably thank you for being such a good friend...And I probably ought to apologize for going after Lance immediately after the two of you broke up."   
"Well, I'm sorry for blowing up at you for falling for such a great guy, and acting all jealous and overprotective because I wasn't over him quite yet and didn't want to see him happy with someone who wasn't me," Kitty responded shyly. She suddenly reached up, and engulfed the other girl in a warm hug.   
"By the way," Kitty said. "I have a surprise for you downstairs--" 

Just then, the door creaked a single time, before finally giving out, apparently under some sort of weight, and flinging wide open.   
"Whoa!" two voices howled in unison, as Rahne and Kurt fell forward, toppling onto each other in a mass of hair and fur.   
"Ouch," both mutants grumbled, still lying on the floor in a tangle of limbs. The two girls in the room arched their eyebrows down at their eavesdroppers, before Kitty spoke up dryly, "My, doesn't _this_ look friendly."   
Rahne and Kurt stared up at the brunette, then seemed to realize the suggestive position they were lying in, and scrambled to hop onto their feet, faces flaming red.   
"Um...you see...we were just going to ask if you two wanted a Pepsi...don't look at us that way...it wasn't _my_ idea..." the two babbled, blushing furiously. Kitty rolled her eyes, giving a tired grin, before turning to the other girl and chirping, "Come on, I've got a surprise I want to show you!" and pulling her out of the room. 

"So, what is this surprise you keep on talking about?" she asked curiously, as the two girls bounded down the stairs.   
"You'll see," Kitty replied mysteriously. The other girl paused halfway down, as she picked up the song that was playing over Kitty's radio sitting downstairs in the living room, and asked, "Hey, Kitty, since when did you start listening to U2?"   
Kitty blushed, before admitting guiltily, "Since I destroyed all my BSB and 'NSYNC albums right after I broke up with Lance."   
The other girl grinned teasingly, but only said, "Well, good for you."   
"Hey, this isn't about my taste in music," Kitty spoke defensively, as she led her friend into the living room.   
"This is about you...and Lance." 

"Someone say my name?" a familiar voice spoke up good-naturedly, as the second girl froze on her tracks upon seeing him.   
"La...Lance," she stammered awkwardly, not knowing what else to say, as U2's _Beautiful Day_ continued to play over the radio in the background. Lance stepped forward, and handed over the single red rose, which she took numbly.   
"Hey there," he murmured affectionately. Kitty, meanwhile, watched the exchange, before prodding the other girl, "Go on. Weren't you two supposed to hook up after the WWF event, before I found out about it?"   
"Just making up for lost time, Princess," Lance said, a boyish grin on his handsome face, as he held out one hand with a mocking grand gesture. She giggled, as she took his hand, and he led her toward the front door. Glancing back, she caught sight of Kitty, and silently mouthed, _Thank you._ And then they were out the door, as she said silently to herself, _Well, Jean, guess there was never any need for a sacrifice in the end._

Kitty watched the happy couple stride out the door, as U2's _Beautiful Day_ played softly over the radio in the background. _Beautiful Day, indeed,_ she thought to herself. Just then, the dedications came back on, and the DJ announced grandly, "This request was made in response to the _Like A Virgin_ dedication."   
Kitty perked up, as a mischievous grin lit up her face and in the back of her mind the pretty freshman wondered what Evan had concocted.   
"It's a dedication from Evan to Pietro." A dramatic pause. _"Light My Fire, _by The Doors!"   
This time, Kitty wasn't as lucky as when Todd had dedicated _She Worked Hard For The Money_ to Tabitha, as she fell over and landed unceremoniously on her face.   
"Like, ew!" the blue-eyed freshman grimaced, wondering what had possessed her teammate to dedicate _Light My Fire_ of all songs to Pietro Maximoff in retaliation.   
"...Come on baby light my fire," Jim Morrison continued to sing melodically over the radio speakers, as Kitty made all sorts of faces. Halfway through, just when Kitty was starting to forget about Evan and beginning to enjoy the song, _Light My Fire _was abruptly stopped, as the DJ's voice came on apologetically.   
"We apparently just got a call from Evan, complaining that the radio station has mixed up his dedication request," he began. The opening chords to another song began to play over the loudspeakers, as the DJ said, "Here's the correct dedication, from Evan to Pietro, _Lonely Boy!"_   
"Oh," Kitty mumbled, breathing a sigh of relief and wondering whether she had just heard Pietro holler in outrage over at the Brotherhood boarding house. 

* * *

Ta da! The End. Thank you, thank you, thank you very much. Please do not restrain yourself from throwing any roses, I love flowers! Okay, this story was actually a toss-up between Jean and Rogue till the very last second, I had originally decided on Jean by the fifth chapter, then read all the reviews and was swayed by the reasons that the people vying for Rogue offered. But alas, I am easily bribed, and when someone sent over all the cash and diamond jewelry...j/k ^_^! Seriously, though, for all the people that were rooting for Rogue, sorry 'bout that, but hey, you can always cross out Jean's name and replace it with Rogue, since there never was any real, concrete evidence stating that it had to be Jean. And for all those people vying for Jean...I carried out my end of the bargain, now pay up! I take cash and checks, no money orders! Again, j/k ^_^! Seriously though, what made me choose Jean was simply because it was an original pairing, and it would be rather interesting to see Scott's reaction watching the object of his affections going out with Rival Numero Uno. Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing this fic, I'm really sad to see it end...but on the bright side, I _am_ currently planning on writing another Evo fic, this time a humor one (ah, right up my alley) about Toad trying to shoot a music video starring the rest of the Brotherhood. 


End file.
